2007-08-12: DF: ...Of DOOM!


DFErin_icon.gif DFPersi_icon.gif

Summary: Erin recruits someone new for the A-Team. (And A does not stand for A**hole, no matter WHAT the Saints say.)

Dark Future Date: 12 August 2009


Times Square, Old New York

There are those who would watch the shadows, watch from the shadows - even getting more ridiculous, there are those who would watch the shadows from the shadows. It's that sort of era now, and for good reason - the country, whether anyone will say it outright or not - is in a state of civil war.

Erin's in a golf cart. Sunglasses over her eyes, dressed in a dark suit, she has one arm draped over the wheel. It almost looks casual, if it weren't for the fact that there are no other working vehicles in the area. Apparently working with the president - for the president, rather - does pay off in certain ways. For example, Erin keeps her life, has a good job, and gets to zoom around Old New York in a rather beat up, though working, golf cart. This isn't a leisurly venture, though… She's working.

She let Ali go - that was her first mistake. The second was the twinge of guilt she had when she realised she still sent her former roommate away with SARS. Of course, that guilt won't do. It has to be eliminated. Banished. And now she's working double duty offing terrorists, and anyone who could be considered a threat to the president. Because Times Square is a good place to find people, she's set up here, waiting to shoot first, ask questions later.


Persi doesn't know who Erin is, nor does she really care — at least, not for the purposes of what she's up to. When Erin first got here about, oh, an hour ago, Persi was already here, just…hidden. Only now does she return, climbing the stairs in one of the buildings marked 'DANGER', despite the fact that it's obviously structurally unsound. Once she's up to the second floor, she finds a window — or, actually, just a big hole in the side of the unlucky, now-dilapidated building), and rummages in her pocket.

Then, along with a shout of "FORE!" a golfball comes flying down from the building and thwacks Erin in the arm — really, she was just hoping to tink it off the roof, at best, but it seems her aim is good tonight!


Honestly, she was not expecting that.

"OW!" she yells plaintively when the golfball smacks her arm. From that far away, with the distance it dropped - even from a second floor window - that's going to leave a nasty bruise. Her eyes first go to the golf ball, and she grits her teeth, pulling the sunglasses off her face and dropping them to the bottom of the golf cart. Angry Erin is angry.

Next, she looks up, searching for the source of said projectile; not hard to find when 'FORE' was shouted moments before the impact. Metallic blue eyes rest on the perpetrator and narrow slightly. Damn, the girl's out of range. Well, there's only one way to deal with that.

Erin exits the golf cart and starts running for the old building. The irony of being smacked with a golfball is lost in the irate agent.


Persi snickers quietly at the reaction from the woman, but then realizes that she's just angered somebody that's probably not going to get asked many questions if she does something mean to Persi. Nonetheless, Persi's sure to wing another golfball at the woman as she runs in her direction — this one tacks off the pavement and, at best, ricochets off one of the poor agent's calves. With that, Persi checks her ammunition stash; three balls left, as if she hasn't been annoying enough already.

After that momentary delay, Persi realizes it's probably a bad idea to be cornered in a room with only one exit — and so, she returns to the stairwell and makes a break for the next level up — unfortunately she's none too quiet about it!


This ball manages to miss Erin, but only just. At least it gives Persi another second to get away, to disappear, before Erin can get in range. Without knowing where the girl is exactly, she can't do anything, really. She can feel viruses, sense germs in concentration or individually. But figuring out where people are - unless they're infected - is impossible, and at the moment, Persi isn't infected.

Erin enters the old building, looking up the stairs, hearing the pounding footsteps on them. Reaching out - it's a simple thing, really. A way of tracking the girl - she attempt to convert a single skin cell into something slightly more sinister. A cold virus - Persi won't feel a thing, and her immune system would likely kill it with time, but it'll serve as a tracking device, at least for the moment. Whether or not it works, Erin starts up the stairs.


Erin doesn't say much anymore. No words of challenge, no angry shouts after the initial exclamation - once she can feel that virus, she simply stops running, climbing up the stairs now much more slowly. The virus isn't moving, so it should be easy enough to find the girl now, golf balls or not. Erin can weather those just fine, even if they sting a bit. The penalty for letting another person go - who also happens to be a terrorist, as far as this agent is concerned - is a definite no.

As she nears the top of the third flight, though, she can feel the virus. Close, still not moving.

And yet, she can't find the girl. The cell couldn't have just fallen off - 'falling off' in the viral world just isn't as simple as falling off a horse. The blue eyes narrow, the glow momentarily intensifying as she seeks to speed the particle's metabolism - just slightly - to make more of them so she can more easily track it.

Problem is, she's standing right in Persi's firing range.


Persi is just mean. I mean, really, really mean. Because this girl's decided to chase her, she needs to be taught a lesson. NOBODY catches Persi! So, once the woman's face is turned toward her, she wings another golfball, this one aimed right for the centre of her forehead. Of course, it doesn't even become VISIBLE until after it leaves her hand, so it might be rather difficult to get out of the way of — but then, she DOES have agent-trainings! Y'never know! Persi's not dumb enough to say anything, else she'll end up getting shot!


Persi's got good aim. Unfortunately for Erin, she doesn't see the golfball right away, and because of the close range, she's hit right on the ridge above her eye. Her first thought isn't that she's seeing stars, or that she's already fallen to the landing, because holy ass, that hurt, but her thinking is more along the lines of, 'SHE'S EVOLVED.'

The invisibility is actually what might save Persi's life in the long run. Still, Erin has to catch the girl first, but since she's able to pinpoint the girl's exact location, that shouldn't be too hard.

Right now, though, Erin grunts, attempting to get to her feet, but only making it to her knees, at which point she doubles over until her forehead is in contact with the floor.

"Good arm," she mutters miserably, allowing herself the luxury of falling over on her side. She doesn't have to run to catch the girl, in any case. Persi might note, along those lines, that Erin's eyes are so bright, they're lighting up the stairwell at this point.


Persi giggles in amusement (a noise not often heard from her) and crouches down at the top of the steps to peeeer down in Erin's direction, "Nice eeeeyes. You aren't gonna go all Cyclops on me, are ya? 'cause that'd probably bring the whole building down." Idly, she takes her second-to-last ball out and sets it on the top step before giving it a gentle nudge forward to send it slowly rolling down the steps, bouncing and picking up speed as it goes — with luck, it'll lamely bop off the collapsed agent, whether her head or her toe, doesn't matter to Persi. She's just in it for the humiliation.


"Heh. Heh." Erin laughs, not typically the response one might expect from someone who really has just been humiliated. Too bad for Persi, though - Erin's been a few sandwiches short of a picnic for some time now. There's no movement, no indication that Erin's doing anything. Through the glow, she wouldn't even be able to see the girl if Persi was visible. But she can feel where she's at.

That's when the unsuspecting target will start feeling ill. First, it's a sudden spike in temperature, then pain, like every fibre of her muscle is trying to tear itself away from the bone. The onset is quick as the virus rapidly multiplies - dizziness, nausea.

The disease will progress on it's own from there, without Erin's intervention. That doesn't mean she can stop the golfball which is hurting down the stairs - which connects painfully with her shin - but when it does so, the agent is smiling. "Come out, come out, where-ever you are~" she says in a sing-song voice.


Persi blinks a little as she feels heat rush through her — knowing that evolved can be unpredictable in their abilities, this brings a moment of panic, for fear that she's going to catch on fire. And then — the pain! Persi, having been crouched down, just kinda lamely topples onto her side and curls up into a ball, gritting her teeth to will herself not to whimper or whine or make any other undignified noise amid the pain. However, the pain is enough of a sudden jolt to break the tiny whit of concentration that Persi's ability requires, and so, she pops back into view, looking none too happy about the pain coursing through her — then again, she's only just starting to push herself up off the floor, and, in the process, noticing how weakened she is just by that initial onslaught. She doesn't speak, for fear her words would be turned around on her in case she DOES get caught — she just stares at Erin with the none-too-common look of a frightened predator — the look of a panther when it encounters an angry lion.


Little tiny things - the tiniest things of all with DNA or RNA - can often cause the biggest problems. Thusly enabled by rapid metabolism, the viral load nearly doubles itself with each passing second, invading and killing cells, destroying everything it touches, eating holes in cell walls and leaving them with the appearance of swiss cheese. And then the bleeding will occur.

Erin pushes herself up, hair dragging on the floor as she fights her own pain. That will go away, though, even if there's a rather colourful bruise spreading down the side of her face now. Once on her feet, she starts to climb the stairs, the glow in her eyes diminishing until it's gone. The damage is done, though.

"You ever think of working with Nathan Petrelli?" she asks. An assassin - invisible. No one would see her until the last possible moment. "It pays well. You get good benefits. You get to live."


Persi just stares at the agent for a few moments more, her jaw setting firmly — then, it looks as if she's going to speak — as if she REALLY wants to say something, and then she does! She abruptly rolls over and pushes herself up onto her hands to shout what sounds like a Welsh expletive at the corner, "BLEEARRARGH!" Of course, it's fairly obvious what's really going on — and now, it's fairly obvious to Persi that she's got something REALLY serious going on, considering the tinge of red that's showing up in her breakfast. Nonetheless, she's stubborn, flopping back to the floor (the clean part, thank you very much!), she rolls her head to the side to blandly gaze over at Erin again, "Ugh…screw you, lady, I'm no frickin' Navy SEAL…I was just messin' around, jesus!" And then, her words are cut off as she feels that urge to wretch again, but steels herself to suppress it.


Erin? Is not affected by this at all, except for the slight up-curl of her lip. While she was in detainment, she saw a hell of a lot worse, because the humans that Petrelli keeps locked up are nothing more than animals. Erin is not an animal, she won't go back to that, and so she's going to be a good lackey and increase the number in Nathan's personal army. It's the only way she can survive, keep herself out of a cell… It's all she knows how to do anymore.

She looks down at the mess on the floor. "You could be trained." Pause. "The red. You see it, don't you?" Another long pause - very long - as she simply observes, waits. "There could be more. You die. A dozen other people die. I don't care - you're all the same to me." She crouches, one hand contacting Persi's shoulder. "You'll bleed, you'll hurt, you'll be in agony for at least a couple more days, before there's nothing left inside you to bleed, and your organs shut down one by one. Your kidneys, your liver, your heart. You won't die until there's nothing left of you. Nothing left to go to the afterlife. You'll simply stop existing, and no one will know."


Persi really, really wants to knock Erin's block off right now, but, at there's no moment in her entire life when she's felt weaker than right now — and so, she just relaxes with a little, distinctly raspy sigh (yay, her throat's already getting sore). When she does reply, it's in a grumble, "All that sounds peachy by me…all 'cept the dying part." That said, she reaches up to try and grab the front of whatever Erin's wearing, however loosely and weakly, "Fix it. Fix it, then you can play boss-lady."


"Mmm," she says. "I don't think you're in much of a position to bargain." As Persi's hand takes her shirt, she looks down at it, tilts her head a bit, then meets the girl's eyes. "I don't care whether or not you live or die, to be honest. You answer, and if the answer's good enough, then I'll fix it." One hand reaches up to take Persi's wrist, to which she gives a good squeeze. Erin doesn't yet remove said wrist, though… Instead, the contact remains, eyes gently glowing again as she prepares to heal, to turn the viral particles into things much more benign. But nothing happens just yet.

"You'll have something to live for. A new world where you won't have to worry about what people think of you, where you won't have to hide, where no one will touch you for fear of dying themselves. You'd be an asset. You'd have security."

Hand still contacting Persi's wrist, Erin waits expectantly. "There's always the chance that if I leave you here, someone will find you and help you. But I wouldn't count on it."


The entire spiel about security and worrying what people think just goes right over Persi's head — she's spent too long living outside of society for such things to really register fully in her mind. However, the threats of death get through louuud and clear. Eventually, Persi lets out a faint chuckle and shuts her eyes for a second, "Not gonna bank on that…don't think there's a cure for bitch — too much of a chance of it comin' back and flaring up, y'know?" Then, another pause and the finish to her response, "Fine, whatever I hafta do, just FIX IT, damnit!" Cue further cringing as the disease makes further progress and hits a sensitive spot in its onslaught o ' cells.


Erin grunts again. Good enough, for now. She'll start killing the viruses, though the damage that's already been done is only patched up, not repaired. There are still swiss-cheese holes all through poor Persi's blood vessels, there's still the weakness, but with the destruction of all but a few of the cold viruses that she planted before, the girl will be cured. Mostly.

Erin still has a hold on Persi's wrist, though. Tight. She's not stupid, she knows the girl can go invisible and vanish forever, and she'd even be hard to find with those viruses in her system if she's quick enough. Given the fact that Erin's weakened by her assault, there's not a whole lot she could do if Persi did escape, though. All the bravado in the world can't make her ability stronger, but she can bluff.

"Feeling better?"


Persi is easily taken in by the bluff, but only because she's already had it proven to her that Erin's dangerous — and so, Erin's imagined, potential strength is multiplied in Persi's mind! Thus, she doesn't try to escape, she just breathes deep, glorious breaths as she's returned (mostly) to health. She's still weak, but she does grin a little, "Feeling great…after that, even this feels awesome. …you can let go of me now. I do realize that if I run, I'm just gonna end up dead, so don't even worry about it."


Erin's response is to smile, releasing Persi's wrist in order to get to her feet. The bruise has since spread around the top half of her eye socket, and is darkening fairly rapidly. The kid has a good arm, that's for damn sure. Hidden are the two bruises on her arm and shin, though she'll find those a little later. Sure, Erin can't recruit every Evolved she meets, but in her own mind, she's now made up for letting Ali go. Perhaps the guilt is still there, nagging, even though she can't say why, but this takes her mind off of it.

"Come on. I'll take you somewhere where you can recover." And when she's not looking like Death, Persi will be taken to meet the President of the greatest country in the world… At least, that's what Erin's been told. What she has to believe in order to keep herself alive.

A million eyes are watching her, from the shadows, perceived threats which might or might not actually be there. They watch every move she makes, report back to Petrelli, tell him what she's done, what she hasn't done, her successes and her failure, and Erin fears.

Holding out a hand, the agent smiles. "I'll help you to the car."


Persi does hate to depend on people, but she really doesn't have a choice — she grabs the hand and tugs herself up with Erin's help. Once she's on her feet, she glances over and eyes the pool of reddish vomit on the floor, a reminder to herself of WHY she's doing this. Looking only mildly okay with what's going on, she starts on her way down the stairs, "…cart, y'mean…" Aside from her need to be a smartass, despite being at this woman's mercy, she mumbles a little, "Y'know, there's a reason I never became a spy…dunno why you seem to think I wanna be one now…"


There's a reason for everything. "People change," Erin states, leading the way to the car - cart. Whatever it is. The agent, for example, was an actor once upon a time. Now? She's a killer. Some people say she's working for the wrong side, but as far as she knows, this is the side that keeps her breathing. Who can really argue with that? For Persi, that might have just become her saving grace, as well.

And so, the pool of red is left behind, and Erin will likely never think about it again. Right now, she has to get the girl food, water. Some medicine to stabilise her so she can recover. It might take a day, two, three, but it'll come.

"I have a hotel. You'll stay there, you'll eat, then we'll discuss your duties when you're better." And by that, Erin means she'll drag her captive to the President for him to decide.


Persi hobbles along with Erin, ready to take a snooze, as weak and tired as she is, but bearing with it despite it all. She smirks wryly at the plan laid out and mutters, "Food…that sounds good, I'm hungry. What's that thing they say? I feel like I could eat…no, that's not it…I feel like…oh, right — I feel like somebody just made me puke up my guts in an abandoned building so they could turn me into a superspy." Persi mutters and grumbles a little more, but eventually comes out with another smartass comment, "And, y'know, I don't think it's common practice to go back to a hotel with a gal what madeja throw up just by lookin atcha…"


Erin? Just smiles. That's the fun part of her job, and she gets to use it so damn much in New York. See, she's not allowed to kill the others who work with the President, because it's Not Allowed. But here? It's like open season. "I'd have no problem with dropping you again and leaving you here, if you don't want to follow," she says, turning around in the stairwell to glare up at Persi. Whatever arguments Persi has… Well, really. Who is this girl, anyway? Does it matter? Would anyone care if she died in this old building? Erin imagines not. "You make a choice now. You shut up and you come with me, or you die here."


Persi is actually a bit surprised that somebody actually has the gumption to stand up to her smartass comments, but takes the obvious choice and just brushes on past Erin without a word or a sound. Her hands get stuck in her pockets and she just moseys for the cart, making sure to keep herself from saying or doing ANYTHING that might compromise her…y'know…LIVING.


Erin's not really standing up to said smartass comments, she's just too out of her mind to see them for what they are. She has a purpose, she's focused, and Persi doesn't understand all the millions of eyes watching every move she makes. It's either lose her temper, do something stupid, and incur the wrath of those eyes, or put up with the humiliation, the black eye, and the smartassyness for a while. Once they're in the cart, Erin will drive them to the hotel, where Persi will be given the royal treatment. After all, depending on what Nathan thinks, this could be the poor kid's last night alive.

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